


and some things stay the same

by izabellwit



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Banter, Brotherhood of the Dark Kingdom (Disney), Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Gen, Kinda, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Missing Scene, Prompt Fic, Swearing, as much as adira and hector will allow themselves to be capable of anyway, hurt/comfort through insults and stealth admissions of care more like, set during Plus Est En Vous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23930479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izabellwit/pseuds/izabellwit
Summary: Fic Request: I would love to see you write something with the Brotherhood. Maybe post series, maybe the aftermath of Rapunzel and the Great Tree, or the immediate aftermath of the mind trap or final battle?
Relationships: Adira & Edmund (Disney: Tangled), Adira & Hector & Quirin (Disney: Tangled), Adira & Hector (Disney: Tangled), Edmund & Hector (Disney: Tangled)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	and some things stay the same

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written Hector or Edmund before but GOSH they were so fun sdhafkgjhg. I need to write more with these three!!! (Also, hopefully I got their voices down okay aaaaaaaaaaaa)
> 
> I'm slowly working my way through the prompts, ahaha. Might post another one tomorrow too, so keep an eye out for that! ✨

When he opens his eyes, his head is aching, a splitting sort of headache that grits at his teeth and makes Hector snarl instinctively. He presses his hands against his bruised face and curls his fingers in the stray strands of his hair—grimier than usual, matted with drying blood—feeling something pound behind his eyes like those old stupid warning drums the Dark Kingdom used to have, booming away whenever summer storms or tornadoes loomed on that ruined horizon.

Memory takes a little longer to return—but it does, at last, return. Hector lowers his hands slowly from his face, memories of swinging his sword at his king and kingdom-wide destruction singing through his head, and says, “Fuck.” 

“Hm.” Rubble shifts and crumbles, and he can hear someone approach. “Agreed.”

Adira. Hector levers himself upright— and snarls, suddenly incensed. “I got defeated by a _horse?”_

There’s a pause. Then Adira sighs. “Of course that’s what you're focusing on.”

“A fucking _horse!”_

“And I got defeated by you nearly four months ago, and yet,” Adira murmurs cooly, and steps away. Hector jumps to his feet and whirls on her, furious. 

“You—”

“That victory was beginner’s luck, by the way.”

Hector bares his teeth at her. “I seem to recall _you_ getting beat by the horse too.”

Adira gives him a feral smile in return, but for once doesn’t go for the fight—just turns around and picks her way through the rubble, to her sword. “Thank the Moon that Quirin isn’t here,” she murmurs, and studies her iron blade— such a downgrade from the black rock sword, honestly— with a frown. “Hope he didn’t stab his kid before the mind control broke.” 

“What?” says Hector, but already his mind is racing, blurry memories of Corona, and the throne room, and Quirin, and a gangly kid in a leather apron, saying… 

Well, shit. The sting of failure fades, and Hector makes a face, drawing close. Quirin has always been the most morally-uptight of them; Hector has no doubt he’d be breaking down over the whole thing. Probably is having that breakdown right now, in fact. Small mercies. Hector does _not_ have to be witness to that, thank the gods. 

“He didn’t,” Hector says, knowing nothing of the sort but not at all wanting to consider having to deal with Quirin’s… everything, really, if the truth is otherwise. Shit, if the kid’s dead, they’re all screwed. The _emotions,_ Hector’s going to get hives just thinking about it. “But even if he did, we still have a goddamn situation here, so many he should think about leaving that breakdown for later.” 

Adira rolls her eyes at him, but doesn’t disagree. She’s still frowning at her sword, that bleak iron blade, and then all at once she sighs and shakes his head. “Don’t say that to his face,” she says, simply, and Hector shudders at the very thought. No, he’s not that stupid, thanks. Quirin has a terrible habit of having _expectations,_ and they always seem to disappoint him; if he hears any whisper of what Hector has said he’d fix Hector with one of those awful looks, the kind that always makes Hector feel like a grimy fifteen-year-old again, who tried to stab the head knight’s son and failed at it. Hector is _forty-fucking-seven,_ he should not be feeling shamed, fuck Quirin anyway. 

“Tell him any of what I just said and I’ll throw you off another cliff,” says Hector, and Adira scoff and sheaths her sword.

“Like you even could,” she says, turning away. Hector sneers at his back and goes to find his own sword, as well. Adira’s eyes follow him. “...What are you doing?” 

Hector looks up from where he’d been checking the blade. “What?” he says. “We have a kingdom to take back, or whatever. I’m making sure that horse didn’t break my fucking sword.”

Adira stares at him. She blinks fast and then shakes her head. “Just like that? _You_ want to help?” 

“Well, Quirin seems to like this place, so.”

Adira looks bemused. She blinks again, slowly. “That’s… actually quite sweet. Wow.”

Oh, fuck her. She hasn’t changed at all— just as annoying as he remembers. “I didn’t actually want to take it over in the first place, don’t fucking look at me, shut up,” Hector snaps, and he’s halfway to the tower door before he sees something move in the corner of his eye and he freezes.

In a hollow space leading to the outside, the King stands tall, silhouetted by the sky. He looks— worn, Hector thinks, with a sudden drop in his gut. Older. It’s been twenty-five years, but it’s one thing to know that and another to see him.

The King is injured. He’s leaning against the wall, bloodless and shaking his head. “Hector,” he says, and there’s a weight there, a precision, and Hector remembers swinging at his King’s head because the whispers had told him too, and his fingers clench and spasm and the sword falls limp from his hands to clatter loudly on the tower floor.

Hector doesn’t react—just straightens. “…My king.”

He can hear too, behind him, Adira’s sudden stiffness. When she speaks, her voice is tight. “King Edmund. I—”

“Peace,” the King says, raising a hand before Adira can finish; his expression is worn but relieved. “You are uninjured, yes?” And then, before they can respond, his hand drops. “Well,” he adds in a mutter, “I don’t see any pressing wounds, though they both look more annoyed than expected, but that’s understandable, given everything, but perhaps...”

“We’re fine,” Hector says, cutting through the murmuring. He takes a breath and looks the King up and down, and kneels down to grip the sword again and bow his head. “And ready to fight.” He can hear Adira kneel with him. “What are your orders?”

There’s a pause—long, long enough that something in Hector twists, and his head almost lifts—and then King Edmund laughs, soft and stuttering, and Hector really lifts his head then, so quick and sharp his neck aches from the whiplash. 

“Oh,” King Edmund says, and his smile nearly splits his face in two. “How I’ve missed you all.” And Hector opens his mouth, something numb in his chest, but his King has already stepped forward, hand sweeping out and expression calm once more, the laughter tucked away. “To Corona,” he says, sure and certain and as commanding of a King as always. “Today we right the wrongs that we were forced to commit!”

And there is but one answer to that—there has always been only one answer to that—and so Hector curls his hand around the hilt of his blade, and rises to his feet with a smile curling bloodthirsty at the edges. And with Adira at his back and his King standing before him, in this ruined tower of black stone—it is almost, bizarrely, like coming home.

“Aye, my King,” Hector says, and grins. 

**Author's Note:**

> In my original draft, Quirin was there too, but then I remembered he was still at the castle. (I think? It's been a while since I saw the finale, ahaha.) Still!! He's there in spirit!! Annoyed older-sibling spirit.
> 
> [If you wanna rec this fic, you can reblog it here!!](https://izaswritings.tumblr.com/post/616841181854384130/i-dont-know-if-youre-still-interested-in-prompts) Also, if you have any questions or just want to talk, [my tumblr](http://izaswritings.tumblr.com) is always open!!
> 
> Any thoughts?


End file.
